His soft boots scuffing against the wood of the floor, Chesslin moved a little closer to the table so he could have a clear view of what Allen was writing on that parchment of his. He maintained a couple feet of distance. Chess had never been entirely comfortable with physical contact. Even his older brother made him nervous with his great big, hugging arms. It took a lot to gain enough of Chess's trust for him to allow touching willingly.
"I work best at night," Chesslin mused, referring to his studies, his magic. He had always been a night owl, and over the years of his work he had found that he was more awake, more focused in the darker hours. Unfortunately, it made getting up early in the morning... painful. "Perhaps it would be better if I modeled in the late morning, and into the evening if you like?"
It was, perhaps, the most Chesslin had said in one go since he met the dwarf. He looked around and met Allen's gaze, unwavering, to measure whether or not the proposal was acceptable.
It's your own fault, you know.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Allen nodded, agreeing. "Morning's aren't so hot for me either. I like m'ale, perhaps a lil too much, so mornings are a bitch for me. If ya study at night, s'not an issue... I usually go to the pub." Allen rolled his shoulders as he wrote down the suggestions. "S'there anything you're against wearing, be it personal honor, politics, blah blah blah?" Allen gruffed out, used to the whole thing. He'd had a few models, most of them whiners or whores, so he wasn't sure which questions to ask or not to ask.
"Is there any state of undress you're against, or any positions you cannot or will not take?" Allen asked as an afterthought, thinking of a particular portrait he could borrow the boy for should he be willing. If not? Ah well, Allen could find a male whore... hopefully.
"Is there any state of undress you're against, or any positions you cannot or will not take?" Allen asked as an afterthought, thinking of a particular portrait he could borrow the boy for should he be willing. If not? Ah well, Allen could find a male whore... hopefully.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Chesslin's mind, always racing anyway, turned to running through anything and everything he was not willing to do. He knew he would not discuss his past, his family with Allen, but that would come up later. He would make sure of it. That was a rule that had to be set down very clearly. Chesslin knew that if Allen knew the truth he would very likely find himself cast out on the street, if not turned to the city guard.
"I don't care about clothing," he answered Allen in a smooth voice, giving away none of his internal thoughts. "Or positions." He hesitated, then, one thing occurring to him. He had no idea just how far Allen went with his models. "Do with me as you will," he clarified, "so long as you don't expect me to kneel like a dog."
Somehow, that felt very important to him. He refused to put himself in a compromising sexual position, refused to be seen in that light. To him, there was nothing beautiful about that sort of situation, and art was meant to be beautiful, elegant, was it not? Chesslin did not mind if Allen wanted him to lie naked across a bench, posed like some distressed damsel. He did not mind if Allen asked him to portray death, or if Allen wanted to paint him working with his magic. Any of that was fine. Anything Allen asked was fine, so long as Chesslin retained his humanness, his pride.
"I don't care about clothing," he answered Allen in a smooth voice, giving away none of his internal thoughts. "Or positions." He hesitated, then, one thing occurring to him. He had no idea just how far Allen went with his models. "Do with me as you will," he clarified, "so long as you don't expect me to kneel like a dog."
Somehow, that felt very important to him. He refused to put himself in a compromising sexual position, refused to be seen in that light. To him, there was nothing beautiful about that sort of situation, and art was meant to be beautiful, elegant, was it not? Chesslin did not mind if Allen wanted him to lie naked across a bench, posed like some distressed damsel. He did not mind if Allen asked him to portray death, or if Allen wanted to paint him working with his magic. Any of that was fine. Anything Allen asked was fine, so long as Chesslin retained his humanness, his pride.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Somehow, Allen knew this would be the case and couldn't stop the grin and wink. "I don't do that lad, t'ain't manly. Besides... I wouldn't take away your dignity like that. So, nothing I wouldn't do then... fair 'nuff." Allen grunted as he wrote it down. "Dun matter anyways, lad, I don't accept those jobs unless they're tasteful and pay well." Allen hesitated for a moment before looking at the boy. "So no... kinky shit. Mostly they just want the subject to be sprawled in bed with a sheet coverin' them or some romantic crap. Usually its of their lover anyways so doesn't matter." He was rambling, he knew, but he didn't want the lad thinking badly of him.
Clearing his throat harshly to distract himself and the lad from womanly thoughts like that, Allen continued. "Right, so besides what you have already been offered, is there anything else you want in exchange for your... err... services." Changers, was it just him or did that sound like he was making Chess out to be like a harlot? Hoping not, Allen waited the boy's answer. "Like contacts with magic users like Joe, books, blah blah blah. Hell maybe a test subject." Allen chortled. "Provided it's not fatal or shape-changing..." He added as an afterthought.
Clearing his throat harshly to distract himself and the lad from womanly thoughts like that, Allen continued. "Right, so besides what you have already been offered, is there anything else you want in exchange for your... err... services." Changers, was it just him or did that sound like he was making Chess out to be like a harlot? Hoping not, Allen waited the boy's answer. "Like contacts with magic users like Joe, books, blah blah blah. Hell maybe a test subject." Allen chortled. "Provided it's not fatal or shape-changing..." He added as an afterthought.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
"I only work with plants and small animals," Chesslin answered, and shook his head slightly. He was not going to come right out and say that he was not strong enough to manipulate anything larger or more sentient, yet. Some innate instinct warned him to leave the dwarf guessing about the level of his power. The less Allen knew, the harder it would be for Allen to work against him, should he ever choose to do so. It was an outcome Chesslin highly doubted, but had to be prepared for. "But... contacts would be useful."
It would be good to be put in touch with others of his kind, people who might be able to teach him, though he had never met another who felt magic as a world of strings before. Perhaps it was only Chesslin who saw his world, his power, as a fabric to be woven. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and for a moment he lost track of the conversation. Chesslin had not taken the time to think about it before, but perhaps an individual's magic depended purely on the way their unique mind functioned. He would have to look into it.
Blinking, Chess returned to the conversation. He gave his head a quick shake and looked back to Allen. He offered no apology.
"Books I would prefer to find for myself," he told Allen evenly. He might have accepted help, but he did not want Allen to realize the sort of magic Chesslin hoped to study. "But contacts would certainly help."
It would be good to be put in touch with others of his kind, people who might be able to teach him, though he had never met another who felt magic as a world of strings before. Perhaps it was only Chesslin who saw his world, his power, as a fabric to be woven. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and for a moment he lost track of the conversation. Chesslin had not taken the time to think about it before, but perhaps an individual's magic depended purely on the way their unique mind functioned. He would have to look into it.
Blinking, Chess returned to the conversation. He gave his head a quick shake and looked back to Allen. He offered no apology.
"Books I would prefer to find for myself," he told Allen evenly. He might have accepted help, but he did not want Allen to realize the sort of magic Chesslin hoped to study. "But contacts would certainly help."
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Allen chocked on his tea and almost spit it clear across the room at Chess's initial response. Hacking as Chess intoned about books and contacts, Allen flapped a hand to say he understood even though he really didn't. Managing to sufficiently clear out his air-pipe thing in his throat, Allen sucking in a couple breaths. "I wouldn't use that line on anyone else lad." He advised before getting back to the task at hand. "Right, that leads us to house rules." Allen thought for a moment before grinning at the boy. "No loud noises before the 10th hour, 11 after a pub night. Not unless you want to live with a grumpy dwarf for a day."
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Chesslin drew back a bit when Allen began to choke, raising one eyebrow coolly. He was not fond of the idea of having to save Allen from choking on tea. Chess was not even sure he would know how to do that. As such, it was with relief that he watched Allen regain his breath. Chesslin shook his head slowly. What was it about what he had said that the dwarf found so shocking? The fact that he did not know rubbed Chess the wrong way.
The dwarf had already moved on, though, and Chesslin did not get the chance to ask. Silently, he turned back to the paper between them.
"I can manage that," he agreed softly. It was unlikely that he would be awake before the tenth hour, anyway, on the days that he actually slept. The rule was no trouble. Chesslin had never been a loud person. Even as an infant, he had hardly cried. Musing for a moment, Chess came up with the next rule. "No conversation about my brother. Or my parents."
Perhaps it was an entirely personal rule, but it was the most important. Ulvir was a constant thorn in Chesslin's side, and discussing him always put Chess in a bad mood. As for his parents, they were long gone, and he would take no chances when it came to the cause of their death. He could not afford to have Allen digging into the accident.
The dwarf had already moved on, though, and Chesslin did not get the chance to ask. Silently, he turned back to the paper between them.
"I can manage that," he agreed softly. It was unlikely that he would be awake before the tenth hour, anyway, on the days that he actually slept. The rule was no trouble. Chesslin had never been a loud person. Even as an infant, he had hardly cried. Musing for a moment, Chess came up with the next rule. "No conversation about my brother. Or my parents."
Perhaps it was an entirely personal rule, but it was the most important. Ulvir was a constant thorn in Chesslin's side, and discussing him always put Chess in a bad mood. As for his parents, they were long gone, and he would take no chances when it came to the cause of their death. He could not afford to have Allen digging into the accident.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Allen nodded. "Right, no family talks. Fair enough, actually same you you." His voice actually darkened for a moment, along with his eyes before he shook himself out of it. "Alright. I don't mind experiments in here, or in your room, or wherever, just don't blow the place up." Allen told the boy, managing a grin. "You keep saying you can't do much, but you never know, magic's a hell of a thing. If it's an accident, I can get that, but either way, let's keep the boom-boom shit to a minimum." Allen joked as he jotted it down, taking a quick sip of his tea before the lad could speak. Hopefully the dwarf wouldn't die today.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
There was absolutely nothing about Allen's latest rule that Chesslin found funny. It brought up images for him that he would have preferred to leave behind forever - brilliant fire, a radiant string he had never been able to find again. Hot walls crumbling around him. Ulvir making a mad dash to Chess to save his little brother while their parents burned to death in the next room. Chesslin lifted his eyes from the paper, fixing them on some obscure point on the wall across from him. Absentmindedly, he ran a hand through his soft brown hair.
"I won't be exploring that sort of magic," he told Allen firmly. Not for a very long time, at least. He needed to be sure he had everything under control before he ever touched fire again.
"I won't be exploring that sort of magic," he told Allen firmly. Not for a very long time, at least. He needed to be sure he had everything under control before he ever touched fire again.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Allen looked up at the serious boy, managing to think he might've touched a nerve. Likes to act like he has little to no ability, only his brother, doesn't want to talk about his past. Not hard to figure out something happened to his parents that he blames himself for. Allen reflected before stretching and cracking his back.
"Right, anymore rules? If not, we can get on to what you'll eat and not eat. Hate to admit I've got such a feminine...ability, but I'm a decent cook, so if you like something I can try to whip it up for ye." Allen gruffed out, clearly not liking admitting this. It was bad enough he painted, sewed and liked pretty things. But to cook... it was just about starting to kill him how feminine a man he was at times... To reassure himself of his manliness, Allen stroked his beard, comforted by the bushy hair.
"Right, anymore rules? If not, we can get on to what you'll eat and not eat. Hate to admit I've got such a feminine...ability, but I'm a decent cook, so if you like something I can try to whip it up for ye." Allen gruffed out, clearly not liking admitting this. It was bad enough he painted, sewed and liked pretty things. But to cook... it was just about starting to kill him how feminine a man he was at times... To reassure himself of his manliness, Allen stroked his beard, comforted by the bushy hair.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Chesslin gave Allen a curious look, lifting a dark eyebrow, unimpressed.
"Cooking isn't feminine," he objected steadily, a note of cold logic in his tone. "It's a necessary survival skill. There is no shame to be found in admitting that you and your loved ones are not going to starve." Standing back a bit from the table, Chess crossed his arms. His dormouse made a chittering sound, clearly in protest of his movements. The tiny creature was easily disturbed, and just as easily soothed with a stroke to its silky ears.
"I have never been particular about food," he noted smoothly. "Growing up the way I did, one meal was about as good as the next." None of them had been much good at all. Chesslin had never been a food-lover, either. "I'm afraid Ulvir was not an exemplary cook."
"Cooking isn't feminine," he objected steadily, a note of cold logic in his tone. "It's a necessary survival skill. There is no shame to be found in admitting that you and your loved ones are not going to starve." Standing back a bit from the table, Chess crossed his arms. His dormouse made a chittering sound, clearly in protest of his movements. The tiny creature was easily disturbed, and just as easily soothed with a stroke to its silky ears.
"I have never been particular about food," he noted smoothly. "Growing up the way I did, one meal was about as good as the next." None of them had been much good at all. Chesslin had never been a food-lover, either. "I'm afraid Ulvir was not an exemplary cook."
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
"It's women's work, as far as I was brought up boy." Allen gruffed out. This was not a topic he liked. He looked over and back tot he kitchen. "Well if yer not picky we'll just sort out what ye like and don't like via testing, aye?" And with that, Allen stood and shuffled to the kitchen, grabbing an apron as he went. Working hard to completely ignore the boy, Allen began cooking one of his more favored dishes - roast beef.
Chopping vegetables deftly, he began to hum an old dwarven tune, singing of the mines and the shimmering of the ores and diamonds. He sang of battles of old and of burly maidens who warmed their stoney beds. He swept the chopped veggies into the pot with the meat and slid it into the warmed over, his baritone carrying the last chords of the song easily.
Chopping vegetables deftly, he began to hum an old dwarven tune, singing of the mines and the shimmering of the ores and diamonds. He sang of battles of old and of burly maidens who warmed their stoney beds. He swept the chopped veggies into the pot with the meat and slid it into the warmed over, his baritone carrying the last chords of the song easily.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Chesslin hesitated for a long while, watching Allen as the dwarf fell to his work. Chesslin could not be of much help here. The best meal they had in his house in a long time was a steaming pot of gruel, flavored with wild berries. That was the price of a farmhand's salary for a pair of orphaned boys. Chess had been paid for his work at the apothecary's, of course, but that money had been put toward repairs around the house and new clothes whenever necessary, and boiling water to make herb tea or extract the essence of a plant was no technique for cooking.
Thus, Chess decided to stay out of his dwarven companion's way. Quietly, he settled down in the chair he had occupied at breakfast, scooping his dormouse into view. He laid it quietly on the table's wooden top. Any other dormouse would have skittered away to freedom, but this one stuck close by, ferreting around the table in search of crumbs but never wandering more than a few feet from Chesslin's hand.
"Do I begin modeling tomorrow?" Chesslin asked quietly. If they began tomorrow afternoon, and he put in the effort to get up early, perhaps he could wander the city alone for a bit. If, with any luck, Allen got drunk tonight.
Thus, Chess decided to stay out of his dwarven companion's way. Quietly, he settled down in the chair he had occupied at breakfast, scooping his dormouse into view. He laid it quietly on the table's wooden top. Any other dormouse would have skittered away to freedom, but this one stuck close by, ferreting around the table in search of crumbs but never wandering more than a few feet from Chesslin's hand.
"Do I begin modeling tomorrow?" Chesslin asked quietly. If they began tomorrow afternoon, and he put in the effort to get up early, perhaps he could wander the city alone for a bit. If, with any luck, Allen got drunk tonight.
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
"I don't see why not." Allen commented, almost airily. Something about cooking or doing his craft made him so at ease. He wasn't even aware of the boy watching him. He noted Pebbles though and tossed a small chunk of bred to him, watching the rodent nibble it enthusiastically. He was making a mini cheese dish for them to nibble at as they waited for their meal.
Setting it down, Allen climbed up onto a barstool and pushed the plate slightly at the boy. "Have some of this, dinner'll be at least a couple hours and you're thinner than Pebbles over there."
Setting it down, Allen climbed up onto a barstool and pushed the plate slightly at the boy. "Have some of this, dinner'll be at least a couple hours and you're thinner than Pebbles over there."
Re: It's your own fault, you know.
Chesslin watched quietly as the mouse scrambled all over the bread chunk, nibbling away at the corners. He pursed his lips thoughtfully. Maybe he should give the little thing a name... but then he would get attached. More attached than he already was. Chesslin could not afford to feel attached to a creature that may die in his experiments.
"It takes much less food to fatten a mouse than to fatten a boy," Chesslin answered calmly. He picked up a bit of cheese and broke a corner off, adding it to the dormouse's bread before popping the rest into his mouth. Cheese had been a rarity in his house. He was somewhat unfamiliar with its flavor, but he could never claim he did not like it. Swallowing the cheese, Chesslin looked up at Allen. "Thank you for bringing me here." A bit of the learned farmboy's manners slipped to the surface.
"It takes much less food to fatten a mouse than to fatten a boy," Chesslin answered calmly. He picked up a bit of cheese and broke a corner off, adding it to the dormouse's bread before popping the rest into his mouth. Cheese had been a rarity in his house. He was somewhat unfamiliar with its flavor, but he could never claim he did not like it. Swallowing the cheese, Chesslin looked up at Allen. "Thank you for bringing me here." A bit of the learned farmboy's manners slipped to the surface.